


Daisy Realizes She is a Sucky Person and also Does Things With Jordan

by sharknodo



Category: Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (2013)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Daisy is a Bad Person, F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, Supportive GF Jordan, but she gets better, cute lil kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 04:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14993237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharknodo/pseuds/sharknodo
Summary: Letting out a sigh, I disclosed my news. “I suppose I’ll just say it then. I have left Tom behind and am now staying at a rather shoddy hotel in St. Louis. I can’t visit my parents because, as I’m sure you know, they thought my marriage with Tom to be a gift from God. If you’ll let me, Nick, I was hoping I’d be permitted to stay with your lovely clan for a short time so I can get my bearings. You do live right around the corner, don’t you?”“...We live in Minnesota.”





	Daisy Realizes She is a Sucky Person and also Does Things With Jordan

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something I wrote for school. The assignment was essentially that we had to write fan fiction. So here we are. 
> 
> Unfortunately this didn’t turn out as gay as I intended it to be but it’s fun and dramatic I think!! Hopefully y’all agree

It was in my tenth phone booth since leaving Tom that my cousin finally answered my call.  
  
“Daisy, what on Earth? Haven’t you gotten the hint already--” He sounded annoyed. I decided it would be best to interrupt before he got carried away.  
  
“Nick! Nick, love! There are things I have to tell you; it is on both joyous news and times of uncertainty that I call you.”  
  
“God, Daisy, just-- Just get on with it, all right? I have to leave for work soon and, quite honestly, I don’t know why I’m talking to you.”  
  
Rather than playing along as he once did, Nick merely sounded exhausted and, true to his words, as though he wasn’t sure why he was bothering to hold a conversation with me. I felt a jolt of sudden anger and offense. I had done nothing to hurt him. I wasn’t the one to kill Jay Gatsby. It was obvious that Nick had taken a liking to Jay, but he had no right to take out his grief on me. I was the one who knew Jay best; I was his true love; I was the one whose entire life had been rearranged by the series of events leading up to, including, and following Gatsby’s death. Letting out a sigh, I disclosed my news.  
  
“I suppose I’ll just say it then. I have left Tom behind and am now staying at a rather shoddy hotel in St. Louis. I can’t visit my parents because, as I’m sure you know, they thought my marriage with Tom to be a gift from God. If you’ll let me, I was hoping I’d be permitted to stay with your lovely clan for a short time so I can get my bearings. You do live right around the corner, don’t you?”

  
“...We live in Minnesota.”

  
“Oh.” I suppose that shouldn’t have been as big a surprise to me as it was. I glanced outside of the booth as the odd feeling of isolation that had come and gone in the weeks since Jay’s passing returned in my chest. After abandoning Tom-- no, freeing myself from Tom-- back West, the sense had only gotten stronger. Of course I knew it was irrational, but it made me upset at my husband of all people, as though my subconscious was convinced the feeling was a little goodbye present from Tom.

  
“Daisy?” Nick questioned, sounding much less severe. I must’ve been silent for too long. “When you say you left Tom behind, I’ll assume you took your daughter with you? Because of course we’d help out you and Pammy. I’ll warn you the family won’t approve of you and Tom splitting like this; they’ll consider it worse that a divorce, but they’re not so cruel as to leave you alone with your child. And… for what it’s worth… I’m glad you left him. He wasn’t healthy for you.”

  
This was what I had been dreading. I had not, in fact, brought Pammy. In a rush of terror and exhilaration the night I had left, I hadn’t even thought to take her with me. I told this to Nick with the expectation that he would immediately hang up on me, and yet he didn’t. He told me, with the most extreme reluctance, that I could still visit the clan in Minneapolis if I so pleased.

  
And then he hung up on me.

 

=====================

 

I wasn’t a dimwit. A girl knows when she isn’t welcome, and I held no hopes that there would be open arms waiting for me in Minnesota. I kept this in mind as I headed towards my last resort, out of a total of two resorts. Obviously I didn’t want to go back to Long Island, but where else could I go? Living out of hotels was beginning to take a toll on me, and I was already beginning to feel as though I was in a race to put my life back together. Yet I didn’t know what I was racing against, or what “put my life back together” even meant.

  
When I had gotten in the taxi cab on the way to the train station, I had been looking forward to, quite naively, a fresh start. That had only been a few days ago. Already it felt like months. What had I been thinking? But it was too soon to begin having regrets, so whenever I felt a creeping sense of doubt, or that lingered feeling of remoteness, I went back to the taxi. I recalled the way my hair whipped back, the cool night air touching my skin, and the freedom, freedom, freedom, that had carried me this far.

  
Finally, I arrived at my destination. As the cab driver dragged my trunks out of the taxi, I stared at the mansion before me. Tom and I hadn’t hired anyone to take care of the lawn while we were gone, as we hadn’t expected to come back for a very long time. The grass was already growing too high and the rosebeds were growing wildly. It had taken no time at all for it to fall into disarray.

  
Key in hand, I opened the door to the mansion and headed for the light switch. The sound of my footsteps echoed almost ominously.

“All right,” I said to myself. The words hovered in air. “This will be interesting.”

 

=====================

 

I wasn’t sure if my return to New York was made more or less bearable by the fact that no one came to visit me. I didn’t particularly expect them to, as I rarely ventured outside the grounds of the mansion. While I was glad that there was no one to bombard me with questions surrounding my return, I was beginning to miss having company. I suppose I could have done something about that. I didn’t. The only person in this godforsaken city that knew me well enough for such a conversation was Jordan; no way on Earth was I looking forward to telling Jordan. I desperately wanted her to respect me. She gave off the impression that respect from her was second to God’s. Of course I missed Jordan, but whenever I had to venture into town, all our usual haunts were avoided like the plague.

  
It took me an incredibly long time to realize that Tom wasn’t going to come after me-- twenty-two days, to be exact. I had been sitting in the lounge on a Friday morning, glumly staring into space. I had gotten so good at brooding over this time that I believed I had it down to an art form. One day, I would go the Olympics, hopefully in a pleasant city like Paris, and they would create a whole new women’s sport just because of me. I’d compete against others to see who could sit around and look the most miserable. Obviously, I’d win gold. Tom would turn on the radio one evening and hear the news, that I’d won gold, and wouldn’t that show him—

  
I digress.

  
During that specific brooding session I had been staring at the telephone. It was a bulky old thing, but colored a pleasing cherry-red. I was contemplating how it had been dead silent the whole time I was here. Very suddenly, I realized that Tom had never called. Very suddenly, I realized that I had expected him too. After my parents’ house, this was the place I was most likely to be and Tom must have known that. Had I wanted him to come find me? No, of course not. On some level, however, I wanted him to care enough to wonder where I was. Now I knew he didn’t. Very suddenly, I was crying.

  
It wasn’t completely tears of joy, or of regret, or of anger. It was just one emotion after the other, mixing with mascara, dripping down my cheeks. I must have been a sight. Tom had given up on me the second I had left, and I was sad, and I didn’t understand why. My husband was a cheating, lying piece of scum who didn’t love me enough to even wonder where I was, and I knew this already. That had been why I ran off. This was not a realization. Yet there I was, crying for God-knows-how-long.

  
Eventually, I ended up in the kitchen. It was mid-afternoon. I began putting things back together.

 

=====================

 

The very next day, I woke with a start to the sounds of someone puttering about downstairs. For the very first time, I was grateful for the open-floor plan that had caused me so much grief back when Tom had held little “get-togethers” here with his friends. At least once or twice a month, I’d find myself unable to sleep, forced to overhear loud, drunken ramblings until three in the morning.

  
Immediately, I hopped out of bed, made sure I looked presentable (just in case it was someone I knew), and grabbed a spare golf club Jordan had left here one time or another (just in case it wasn’t). I tiptoed downstairs on slippered feet, not wanting to give myself away to any possible robber with a gun. If I got shot, it would be a very long time until anyone found me. I doubted my neighbors would hear the shot; they were too far away. I’d die right here, on my own property, and no one would bother to care, or even show up to my funeral…

  
I tightened my grip on the club. Now wasn’t the time to think about Jay. As I got to the bottom of the stairs, I heard the intruder begin walking my way. They were in the parlor now. I turned the corner into the room, my heart pounding--

  
I immediately ran into someone face-first. I fell backwards, hitting the ground with a thump. Scrambling wildly to get back up onto my legs, I glanced upwards and saw-- “Jordan?!"

  
“Yes, hello, Daisy,” said the intruder, who was, in fact, Jordan. She barely seemed fazed at all. She was in sportswear, her little bright sweater buttoned up for the cold autumn air. She must have been on her way or coming back from a tournament. Jordan looked exactly the same as when I last saw her, and somehow, this amazed me. On some level I understood that it hadn’t even been two months since we last met. I felt like I had changed so much however, that to see that not everyone else had was jarring. She reached out a hand to help me off the floor and I took it, unable to tear my eyes away from her face. “What are you doing back in East Egg?” she asked me.

  
My mouth opened and closed a few times. I must have looked like a fish. Already, our reunion was not going well for me. “I-- well-- To be quite honest, I’d really like to know what you’re doing here first.”

  
She gave a little laugh, cute but smug. She lifted her hand to show the set of spare keys I had given her so long ago. “I just came back to collect some things of mine I left here before you and Tom took off. Speaking of which…” Jordan plucked the golf club I had forgotten I was holding right out of my hands. “Thanks for that.”

  
“Oh.”

  
She gave me a smile, one that most everyone found charming, myself included, but I also felt it was a little like a shark’s. “Now then. What are you doing back so soon? Where’s Tom and the child?” So I told her my story straight, not knowing what else to do. Interestingly enough, Jordan’s smile only grew. Her dark eyes gleamed as she responded, “Well. Well well. Good for you. Tom never treated you right anyways. Is that why you’re here instead of at your parents’? I doubt they reacted too well.”

  
“Actually… I haven’t told them yet. I’ve been putting that off. Besides, Tom probably already told them. They’re likely figuring out how best to disown me now.” I gave Jordan a sheepish glance, expecting her to berate me for not having the guts to even talk to my own parents. I prayed this conversation wasn’t about to go as bad as my last talk with Nick.

  
Luckily, Jordan did not seem all that disappointed. “I can’t fault you for that,” she said. “Anyways, I have a tournament to head to soon, so I can’t keep talking, unfortunately. But give me a ring next week because I would love to catch up with you. Goodbye now.” She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and gracefully pranced out the front door, swinging her club over her shoulder. I was left standing in the parlor, feeling a bit dazed, but happier than I had been in a while. I smiled a little, absently, then walked back up to my room to get changed. Maybe today I’d finally begin fixing up the gardens.

 

=====================

 

Things improved greatly after that. Jordan had been my closest friend, and we only grew closer after I left Tom. Whenever I began to regret leaving him, she would snap me out of it and tell me that was the smartest decision I’d ever made. No longer was I turning brooding into an art form. I knew Jordan long enough to know when she truly cared about someone, and I could tell she really did care for my well-being. Not that I would ever make her say that, of course. It would ruin her image.

  
Eventually, she moved into the mansion with me. She showed up one day with a car full of suitcases and told me I needed someone to keep me company in such a large house. She wasn’t wrong. Of course I knew Jordan wasn’t perfect. She was reckless, and had a tendency to lie. Once, she left for three days without telling me, and returned as though nothing had happened. It was alright, though. I knew I wasn’t perfect either, and Jordan knew this too.

  
She convinced me to call my parents in Louisville, after days of subtle hints that it was past time. It went about as well as I’d expected. They had, in fact, heard from Tom, who was now living all the way in California. Mother was angry to the point of tears and Father didn’t seem to know what to say to me. After a conversation that did nothing but frustrate everyone, I asked for Tom’s new address. With hope shining through her voice, Mother asked if I planned to reconcile with Tom and be his wife again. I said “yes.” You know, like a liar.

 

=====================

 

The day I arrived at Tom’s new mansion in San Francisco was bright and clear. The air was a bit crisp as it was on the verge of winter, but at all chilly, as it was California. His property was just as picturesque as the one in East Egg. Pansies were scattered in bright arrangements surrounding the front porch. The house was a lovely off-white that, combined with the ocean view, made for a very pretty picture. Truth be told, it was all rather auspicious. That just made me more nervous.  
I hadn’t called ahead, so I just had to hope that Tom was there right then. I raised my hand to use the gold-plated knocker, glancing back to the car for support. I had asked Jordan to travel with me, but I had to do this part on my own. She stood up in her seat and blew me a little kiss. I gave a shaky smile back and finally knocked on the door.

  
After a few tense seconds, the door was swung wide open. There was Tom. In a rare moment of vulnerability, he looked surprised and somewhat hurt at the sight of me. It didn’t last long. “What the hell are you doing back here.” It wasn’t a question. “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore, Daisy,” he growled. “It’s been months, I’ve gotten over it, and now it’s time you stay gone.”

  
I looked him in the eye. I noticed my hands were shaking, and I forced them into fists to try and get them to stop. I wanted to tell him, don’t put this all on me. I’m not the only one who tore us apart. I wanted to get angry right back at him, but I held myself in. Instead, I smiled pleasantly and said, “Hello, Tom. I’d like to see Pammy if that’s alright.”

  
My calmness seemed to unnerve him. He stepped back into the house to let me in. Tom called for the nurse, who came over holding my little girl in her arms. Distinctly, I remember the blazing hot day in which another nurse had came in just like this, so that Pammy could meet Nick and Jay. The day everything had fallen apart. “Pre-cious!” I cried out. “Come to your mother. It’s been so long since I last saw you. You’ve gotten so much bigger and so much more beautiful.” The nurse set my daughter on the ground and I crouched down so she could run into my arms. I had missed her so much, I wanted to cry but refused to do so in front of Tom. I glanced up at him, trying to silently ask for some privacy. He stared at me for a few seconds before going into the next room, taking the nurse with him.

  
“How are you doing, bless-ed?” I asked Pammy with a watery smile. “Are you having fun here with Daddy? Do you like it in California?”

  
She gave me a little nod. She was such a prim and proper little girl. “Yes. I missed you Mommy. But I’m having fun with Daddy, and with Nurse Rosie, and with Miss Jane.”

  
“Who’s Miss--” I cut myself off. I was sure I already knew the answer. It wasn’t like I could blame Tom for moving on so fast. I wasn’t one to talk. “Are you happy here, you little dream?” I asked instead.

  
Pammy nodded, more enthusiastically this time. Her shiny blond curls, so much like mine when I was young, bounced as she did so. “I’ve already made some new friends, and it’s so warm here, it’s like there’s no winter! I love it, Mommy.”

  
I took a deep breath and told her I loved her and that she should go back to Daddy now. She gave me one last hug and skipped away. I debated saying goodbye to Tom, but realized I didn’t even want to. Instead, still holding back tears, I walked back out to the car, planning to ask Tom another day if Pammy could come visit me for Christmas. Jordan gave a quick little grin as she saw me approaching her.

  
“How did it go?” she asked me.

  
“Well enough,” I replied. “Well enough.”

  
She pulled me to her side and gave me a quick peck on the lips before turning on the rental car and careening back down the driveway. Jordan was always so reckless, but I didn’t care. For the first time in forever, I was content where I was. I felt like I belonged. No longer was I letting anyone’s expectations define me. My life was now my own.

**Author's Note:**

> So obviously I’m not expecting attention from this— it’s not like there’s a thriving Gatsby fandom or anything. But if you read, I’d love to hear from you or even just a kudos to tell me you like it!! thanks y’all


End file.
